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The Mermaid Gets Atlantis, I Get Ghosts
Last Updated:
2025-09-30 23:40:44
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Mr Billionaire's Borrowed Wife Borrowed Memories, Borrowed Bride
After Sienna finally fell asleep, after a mini war over whether or not she could sleep with her plastic tiara, and one long bedtime story about a mermaid who married a sea monster because of a work contract, I dragged my feet back to my room.I didn’t bother turning on the main light. Just the soft glow of the table lamp in the corner guided me toward the bathroom. The sound of water running in the shower was like the forgiveness I’d been waiting for all day. And for the next few minutes, I let myself drown there… in the steam, in the scent of sandalwood and lemon soap far too luxurious to just be called "soap."Showering here felt like trying to wash off emotional sins. But unfortunately, hot water can’t rinse away five years of trauma, or shut off my body’s biological response whenever Nicholas stands a little too close.Afterward, I wrapped myself in a towel and opened the door to the walk-in closet. Then stopped. Stared.The walls were lined with clothing racks, too neatly arrange
Mr Billionaire's Borrowed Wife The Mermaid Gets Atlantis, I Get Ghosts
The staff moved with a kind of theatrical precision. They lifted our luggage like they were transporting museum artifacts instead of glitter-covered suitcases belonging to a little mermaid whose belongings probably consisted of broken toys, crusty slime, and pacifiers lost and then triumphantly recovered.Nicholas gave a single, subtle nod just as a man appeared from behind the curve of the grand staircase. Tall, polished, and born with the kind of face that could say “Welcome to the De Castello residence” in three languages without blinking.“The butler,” Angela whispered, way too excited, her phone already in recording mode. “Oh my God, it’s like walking into a private Vatican museum.”“Welcome back, Mr. De Castello,” the man said calmly. “I’ve arranged a brief tour for Mrs Castello, per your request.”Nicholas nodded. “Make sure Sienna’s room matches her specifications.”“We’ve ensured everything is in place, sir.”I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Of course Nicholas had “specif
Mr Billionaire's Borrowed Wife Please Hold for a Lifetime of Repressed Feelings
I nodded slowly, or more accurately, pretended to examine my thumbnail while trying to process what he’d just said.The face.The voice.Sometimes… a green-eyed woman.Did he know it was me? Or was it just ...(what’s the word..?) some kind of visual residue from his malfunctioning brain? A faint crack in the glass of his memory, showing glimpses of a past he couldn’t place? Or worse… maybe he did know it was me, and chose to let it slip away anyway. Like I was just a vague nightmare he could hit “skip” on the moment he opened his eyes.Great, but why did it have to be the eyes? Why not, oh I don’t know… my bad jokes? My hair? My great boobs?Why did it have to be something so poetic?I took a deep breath and looked back out the window. The sky was too peaceful for human chaos. The clouds rolled on gracefully below, the world humming along like it wasn’t holding its breath while I sat here next to the man who once lit my heart on fire and vanished without a trace.I let out a quiet sig
Mr Billionaire's Borrowed Wife Memory Lies, So Do People
The SUV glided smoothly past the automatic gates, rolling into a private area where, somehow, the air itself felt more expensive. This wasn’t your average airport. No flight delay announcements. No sweaty people hauling plastic suitcases. No screaming children fighting over window seats.Just a stretch of quiet concrete and… a plane.Not a regular plane, of course. A matte black private jet with a tail that caught the morning light like the scales of an overpriced snake. Two crew members stood beside it in all-black uniforms.Angela got out first, dragging Sushi’s carrier behind her while the cat let out a low growl that sounded vaguely like a threat. I followed, tugging my hoodie to shield myself from the sun that was suddenly way too bright. Then came Sienna... still wearing her mermaid costume, sunglasses still perched on her face, and pulling a glittery suitcase like she was stepping onto a red carpet. I squinted. Sienna adjusted her shades with two fingers. And then… she walked.
Mr Billionaire's Borrowed Wife The Safehouse I Built
It was seven in the morning and I had already cursed my life four times in my head.The first, when I realized Sushi had more personal needs than an actual human child.The second, when I opened the closet and found Angela sleeping curled around Sienna’s slime suitcase like a personal bodyguard. The third, when I discovered Sienna’s mermaid costume wasn’t in any of the suitcases… because she had hidden it inside the oven. And the fourth? When I picked up Sushi’s litter box and felt like I was lifting the weight of my past sins.“I told them we couldn’t bring everything,” I muttered, holding my breath against the scent of prematurely packed cat sand. “But of course, everything had to come. Because God forbid this billion-dollar cat suffers the slightest discomfort.”I dragged the box out of the room, past a narrow hallway now jammed with suitcases, bags, and a unicorn plush that looked like it had just survived a shipwreck.The kitchen was already noisy. Angela sat at the table eatin
Mr Billionaire's Borrowed Wife Baggage Claim: One Life, Unwanted
I walked back into the kitchen, my heartbeat still a mess after Nicholas said his chest felt... strange. I bit down on my tongue to stop myself from screaming, That’s your kid you tried to throw away, you idiot!The skillet was still warm. Pancakes stacked neatly on a plate, eggs glistening under a touch of butter. I started plating everything onto a big serving dish. My hands moved on autopilot, adding slices of avocado, a bit of shredded cheese, a sprinkle of sea salt.Then I opened the upper cabinet and grabbed the one extra thing I only ever made when my mood was stable enough to handle it: cheesy arepas with Tabasco and honey. An absurd combo.But so was I. A walking contradiction that somehow stayed standing after life tried to blow me to pieces.Behind me, I heard a chair scrape. I didn’t have to look. That I-own-the-world aura was too familiar. Nicholas sat down at the dining table like he owned the house. Or at least, like he owned me and my kid on some absurd short-term cont
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